


I Love Your Smile

by Strings (fangirlgeekout)



Series: Discovery & Laughter [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angelic Grace, Fluff, M/M, Tickle Fights, Tickling, Ticklish Castiel, Ticklish Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-26
Updated: 2015-11-26
Packaged: 2018-05-03 12:21:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5290601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fangirlgeekout/pseuds/Strings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s a silly game they play. One tries to make the other smile, and the other tries to hold out as long as possible. They have yet to get through a round without cheating.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted Dec 2013 on [Tumblr](http://wordstrings.tumblr.com/post/71010037988/i-love-your-smile).

It’s a silly game they play. One tries to make the other smile, and the other tries to hold out as long as possible. It’s never really been clear how it became a game or what defines winning, but nobody really loses, either.

They have yet to get through a round without cheating.

Cas is sitting up against the headboard and turns to Dean with a hopeful expression. “ _I love your smile_.” The hunter partially propped up on the pillows next to him scowls down at the laptop on his stomach.

“No.”

Cas pouts. “Please?”

“Last time, you told me translated Enochian jokes for an  _hour_. It was excruciating. You always end up cheating, anyway.”

“Not my fault your species has an underdeveloped sense of humor. You drive me to cheat.”

“That’s called victim-blaming, you insensitive asshole.”

“I never knew you to willingly take the label of ‘victim.’”

“Well,  _you’re_  gonna take it in a minute if you don’t let me finish this tonight.” Dean clicks half a dozen times in rapid succession, grumbling under his breath about slow connections.

Refusing to be denied, Cas rolls up onto his knees and crawls to the foot of the bed before flopping himself over the hunter’s legs.

Dean can feel him scooting upward over his shins, bit by tiny bit. He focuses entirely on his computer and resists casting a disapproving glare around the edge of the screen. His brain still processes the stalking advancement, though, and helpfully provides him with a mental replay of the  _Jaws_  theme. His lips almost twitch.

The pressure of Cas’ body reaches his knees, and his eyes flick up to a spike of dark hair poking up behind his screen. It’s rising steadily, followed by its messy bretheren, a forehead slightly wrinkled by raised eyebrows, and finally two huge blue eyes staring unblinkingly. Cas goes still, and Dean is reminded of a “Kilroy was here” doodle. He quirks one eyebrow and stares the angel down for a moment before returning his attention to the screen.

Castiel is doing something to adjust his arms, remaining propped up on his elbows so he can still stare over the laptop. Dean feels something worming under the edges of his thighs. He shoots a warning glare over the top of his screen, then has to bite his own tongue to keep the rest of his face in line when fingers start curling deliberately into his hamstrings. Cas definitely caught the movement of Dean’s jaw, though, judging by the way the angel’s eyes are narrowing slightly and wrinkling at the corners.

“Do you  _want_  to be known as a perpetual cheater?” Dean grouches. “Because if that’s not your life’s goal recently, you’ve sure got me fooled.”

No audible reply comes, but there’s a more emphatic wriggling at the backs of his thighs. Dean clears his throat and shifts his weight.

Then Cas is sliding back down the hunter’s legs a little, dropping out of view behind the laptop. The hands beneath Dean’s thighs follow the movement and come to rest under his knees. Dean manages to grind out, “You’re  _immoral_ ,” before breaking into a grimace (it’s definitely  _not_  a smile) and hitching up when the backs of his knees are tickled mercilessly. He screws his eyes shut and groans out a frustrated sound that breaks in the middle.

Cas peeks around the edge of the screen to evaluate his progress. So close, but Dean is nothing if not stubborn. He spiders up over the hunter’s kneecaps and down to the inside of his knees, noting with satisfaction how Dean’s chin tilts up to accompany a choked snorting noise.

The legs jerk under Cas’ chest, and he chases that small victory with skittering fingers up the inner thighs. Dean  _yelps_ , and the laptop is slammed closed and shoved aside to make room for a ploy of defense.

Castiel grins and fights for position atop four flailing limbs. Dean has his bottom lip clamped between his teeth, growling unspoken threats. But he’s gradually losing the tussle to the angel’s superior strength. Cas breaks through with one hand and claws into his tensed stomach. Both of Dean’s hands are instantly wrapped around the angel’s wrist and he’s lost the game, he knows it.

“CahahaHAHAHAAAS!” The angel’s other hand is joining the attack on his stomach, and he collapses in a fit of laughter. “Cheaheheheaterher!”

“I love your smile,” Cas announces proudly. He drops his hands and leans in for a kiss.


	2. The Lightning Round

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted Dec 2013 on [Tumblr](http://wordstrings.tumblr.com/post/71240188907/i-love-your-smile-the-lightning-round).

The only sound in the room was Dean’s drowsy hum of pleasure as Cas leaned over the hunter’s shoulder to nuzzle under his ear. They were nested together on the small couch, Dean leaning against the angel’s chest, head tilted back, on the verge of a nap.

Cas nosed down the hunter’s neck, tightening his grip around the other man’s chest and reaching as far around the front of his throat as he could before planting a kiss in the scratchy stubble.

“You’re not gonna let me sleep, are you.” It wasn’t really a question. Dean felt the lips trail downwards until there was a warm suction on his collarbone. He sighed resignedly. “Didn’t think so.”

“ _Hmmmm_.”

He could feel Castiel smiling against his skin. Dean cracked his eyes open and turned to nudge the angel’s hair with his cheek. Cas lifted his head to meet the hunter’s lips.

"I love your smile,” Cas said with a suggestive smile of his own.

Dean was rolling his eyes before he could stop himself. Cas had already forced him into the game three times this week. “You know, it’s starting to feel a little unfair. You’re so eager to start it and steal at least ten minutes out of my day, but when you’re on the receiving end you only make it about ten seconds before cracking.” It was true - half the time it seemed like Dean barely finished suggesting the game before Cas was fighting a smile. (At least he didn’t have to expend any effort trying to be funny, though - one or two well-placed pokes was all it took before the angel was scrunching up his whole face in that goofy grin of his.)

“I’m not sure what you want me to say, Dean. Your competitive streak is easy to exploit,” Cas smirked.

Dean took a deep breath in a show of self-restraint. “You know what? Fine,” he declared smugly. “But only if it’s a lightning round.”

“Lightning round?”

“Yep. First one to break loses.”

“How can we both-” Cas started to ask, but Dean was scooting to the other end of the couch, pulling Cas’ feet into his lap.

“Lightning round equals all cheating, all the time. Loser does the food runs for a week, and then doesn’t ask to play this stupid game for at least a month.”

“Sounds like you plan on winning,” Cas said, quirking a half-smile and lifting the other’s ankles into his own lap. He was already barefoot himself, so he tugged the hunter’s socks off to even things out.

“Damn straight.” Dean caught the balled-up socks Cas threw at him and tossed them over his shoulder. “I’ll even help you out with a rule modification - first to laugh, not just smile. Maybe you’ll last more than ten seconds this time, but I doubt it.”

“Any other rules?”

“No friggin’ mojo,” Dean added warningly. “Ready to get your ass kicked? Three, two, one-”

Apparently Dean was feeling confident, seeing as he didn’t even attempt going for the kill straight away. He started circling around Cas’ ankles and tickling up the calves. At least it seemed to catch the angel off-guard. Cas locked his lower lip in his teeth and squirmed. His own slender fingers were spidering over one of Dean’s feet, top and bottom.

Dean gritted his teeth against the urge to curl up in a defensive position. Offense had always been his stronger suit, anyway; he grabbed hold of Cas’ ankles and _pulled_. The angel squawked in surprise and flailed for a grip on the couch as he slid down onto his back. Dean was instantly on top of him, a forearm pressed across his chest and a hand skimming up under his shirt.

Castiel yelped and would have lost right there if not for the rule change. He tossed his head back with a barely-contained snort and tried to worm backwards.

Dean took the opening and dove in for a quick raspberry on the angel’s neck. An answering screech and shove nearly made him lose his balance. Cas was sliding headfirst off the edge of the couch in his struggle, and grabbed at Dean’s collar in an attempt to pull himself back up.

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Dean grinned, swallowing a laugh and bearing down on the angel’s shoulder over the edge of the cushion.

“Dean!” Cas barely held back a giggle. “You’re going to make me fall-” But he’d already reached the pivot point and was slipping. His head and shoulders thunked softly on the floor, and he growled in indignation.

The hunter held his ground, keeping Cas’ thighs pinned up on the couch with his body weight. He scrabbled at the bared abdomen stretched over the edge, generating an unintelligible shout he figured was some sort of curse. Then Dean’s wrists were in vice grips and Cas was kicking violently, trying to unseat him. He twisted sideways, wrenched out of the angel’s grasp, and scooped the thrashing ankles up in a headlock. 

Cas shrieked in definitely-not-laughter when Dean’s blunt fingernails skittered across his soles. He clawed up at the couch cushion, finding purchase on the hunter’s jeans. He yanked and heaved himself up until he could get a solid grip on the leg. At the same moment, Dean’s fingers reached the underside of his toes, and, in what felt surprisingly like instinct, Cas reactively shot a tingling pulse of power through his hand.

Dean’s entire body jolted as the ragged, unfocused shockwave of ticklishness punched through him, and he didn’t have a snowball’s chance. He spasmed into a ball, consumed with rough cackling laughter. 

Castiel panted from his half-pile on the floor and worked his legs out from under the trembling mass of hunter curled up on the couch.

“I… I s-said no mojo,” Dean giggled, arms wrapped tightly around himself.

“ _All cheating, all the time_ ,” Cas countered with a grin. "Looks like you’re doing your own food runs.“ He sat up and poked Dean’s side, letting a slim ribbon of sensation sneak out of his finger. The hunter snickered and flinched away. 

"You really are the worst cheater I’ve ever met,” Dean grumbled mildly.


End file.
